


Delightful Sultana

by Nibi



Category: Fire in the Steppe, Pan Wołodyjowski, Pan Wołodyjowski | Fire in the Steppe, Trylogia | The Trilogy - Henryk Sienkiewicz
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, actually sort of happy?, nothing graphic but you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nibi/pseuds/Nibi
Summary: written to prompt:Mimo tak wielkie płci naszej zalety/ my rządzim światem, a nami kobiety(Zosia)lived in harem until her death.But she also had a life between her abduction and death.
Relationships: Zosia Boska/Adam Nowowiejski (mentioned), Zosia Boska/Azja Tuhajbejowicz (mentioned), Zosia Boska/Selim
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Delightful Sultana

**Author's Note:**

> translation of [Rudbeckia_bicolor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rudbeckia_bicolor)'s fic [_Bakaliowa sułtanka_](http://forum.mirriel.net/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=24874) published on Forum Mirriel in 2017.
> 
> enormous thank you to [am_fae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_fae) for checking how English is my English and especially for thinking with me what title would be the most fitting!

“It has to be magic of some sort,” Selim said, playing with her hair. “You must have bewitched me.”  
“I would never do such a thing.”  
Zosia said it with unusual vivacity and boldness, because her innocence took an offence. Zosia, formerly Boska, would not call to the devil, would not be able to. Was not able to curse even.  
“It is true,” he admitted. “You did not have to. Your own charm was enough to conquer me. Your sweetness exceeds that of dates.”  
Zosia smiled, glad to be praised, but she was thinking of something else. She didn’t bewitch Selim, but she was guilty, of this sweetness, even though it came from fear. She knew well it wasn’t how a knight’s daughter of Sarmatian descent, even kidnapped and sold by a Tatar to a Turk of a low station, was supposed to act, fawning over the one who dishonoured and defiled. But, when the son of a delicacies merchant looked upon her for the first time, and looked warmly, and spoke kindly, the poor soul thought she’d come straight from the hell of Azja’s tent to paradise, and she dreamed that it would stay this way, and from the first day she did everything in her power to please him. Disgrace and shame. But what else she could do? Adam would not find her, and even if he did, Azja had taken from her everything she had to offer, and left her tainted and disgraced.  
“It is hazardous though,” Selim continued, kissing her white body. “Padishah Suleiman the Lawgiver wed a captive from your motherland. It is told he loved her so much she was, in fact, ruling the empire. He loved her as much as I love you. I should be wary of you, dove, keep you in a cage. Otherwise you may mislead me.”  
The son of the merchant spoke tenderly and his soul was kind, all his threats were teasing, Zosia was well aware of it. But there was something in Turkish beauty, something wild like a wolf in the steppe, something that reminded her of Azja and wouldn’t let her believe in full victory. Be wary, it warned, keep taming.  
“I will lead you only to your pleasure,” Zosia said blushing, even though years had passed and she had learned to speak these words, not just that, God forgive her, also to take pleasure from the act itself. “This is why I am here.”


End file.
